


Trembling

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom John, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, One Shot, Porn with Feelings, Post Reichenbach, Reunion Sex, Top Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 05:09:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sherlock returns how will John manage the emotions that have been building inside for the past three years...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trembling

**Author's Note:**

> So this little bit of angsty Post-Reichenbach smut was directly inspired by the song **Gorilla by Bruno Mars** [(Youtube Link)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9XXnutQmWPE)

"John"

John turned slowly, teacup trembling in his hand. He would know that voice anywhere. He barely had time to process the sound of porcelain shattering on tile before he had his arm pressed against the intruder's windpipe, all of his military training kicking in.

"John, I--I'm back"

"Sherlock," John mentally cursed himself for how broken his voice sounded before surging forwards, slamming his mouth against the man in front of him.

This wasn't a kiss, this was a battle. Tongues fought for dominance, hands roamed and scratched, clothing torn, buttons popped.

"You were dead." John whispered. Sherlock looked down into John's face before abruptly turning them, hands grabbing for the backs of John's thighs, effortlessly lifting the shorter man, pressing him against the wall. John instinctively wrapped his legs around Sherlock's waist.

"I want..." John squirmed against Sherlock, his arousal beginning to make his brain go fuzzy at the edges.

"What do you want?" Sherlock kissed a line up the side of John's neck, sucking an earlobe into his mouth, releasing it with a pop.

John leveled Sherlock with a stormy look, "Everything."

"Then you will have it." Sherlock tightened his grip on John, carrying him down the hall. Kicking his bedroom door open he unceremoniously tossed John onto the bed before quickly beginning to strip.

John removed his shirt, he started pulling off his sleep trousers, becoming distracted by the miles of pale skin that was being revealed to him.

Sherlock approached the bed, erect cock bobbing with every step, he pulled John's bottoms off with a vicious yank. He crawled onto the bed, sliding his hands up John's thighs, spreading the man's legs even further. His hot breath ghosted over John's arousal, making him squirm. He bent his head down, licking a stripe from back to front over the material of John's pants, leaving a wet trail in his wake.

John clutched at Sherlock's curls, pulling, "Please. Give it to me."

Sherlock hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the man's pants below him, pulling them down slowly, revealing John's erect prick. It wasn't very long, but what it lacked in length it more than made up for in girth, surrounded by a patch of light blonde hair, glistening with drops of pre cum. It was so similar to the man it belonged to, Sherlock couldn't resist pressing a quick kiss to the head before reaching into the nightstand for what he would need.

He slicked his fingers with lube, pressing the pad of his finger lightly over John's entrance before sliding inside. He worked John open quickly and efficiently. There would be time for foreplay another day. Once he had three fingers worked inside, and the man below him was a trembling mess, he withdrew his fingers, sliding the condom on, using the remaining lube on his hands on himself.

Sherlock lined himself up, pushing slightly forward he felt a slight resistance. John made a tiny whimpering sound. Sherlock made a move to pull back, but John tightened his grip around his waist. Using his muscles he managed to flip them over, landing Sherlock flat on his back, looking up, eyes wide in shock. John reached behind him, lining Sherlock back up. Taking a deep breath, he bore down, allowing the man to breach his body. He moaned, feeling himself slide all the way down. He took a moment to relish the feeling of fullness, before he began to move.

John knew he was probably making absolutely filthy sounds, but he didn't care. He looked down at Sherlock. Head thrown back, curls tossed around on the pillows, looking utterly debauched. He was back, he was actually back, after three years, three long years, three long, painful years. He felt the familiar stinging pain coming back, could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He stopped moving, allowing the emotions to roll over him.

He slammed a small fist onto Sherlock's right pectoral, "I was so alone."

His other fist came down as well, "You left me."

He alternated his punches, actually pounding Sherlock's chest, the tears finally escaping his eyes and rolling down his face, knowing he probably looked like a child throwing a tantrum, "I loved--" his words were cut off by a choked sob.

Sherlock surged forward onto his knees, raising John up, he lowered him back into his lap, pounding into him in a steady rhythm.

"Shh, no more," he pushed blonde hair back, licking a path up John's cheek, catching a tear as it began to fall. He captured John's mouth in a gentle kiss, tasting salt on his tongue, still rocking up into him. He wrapped one hand around the back of John's head, pressing his forehead against his own, the other arm circled the smaller man's waist pulling him close, closer, as close as they could get, feeling as if they were merging into one singular being.

John locked eyes with Sherlock, their breath mingling, bodies moving, it was all too much. He came with a gasp, body going tense, clutching at every bit of Sherlock he could grab. Sherlock could feel John quivering around him, and he followed him over the edge in a white, hot flash.

When he came back to himself he pulled John tight against him, burying his face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the musk of sweat, and sex, and...John.

"I am sorry, John," he let out a broken little sob, "I am so, so sorry. I had no idea you would be so affected."

John reached down, cupping Sherlock's face, lifting his head so they were level. He leaned forward pressing feather light kisses on Sherlock's lips, his jaw, the corners of his eyes. John shushed him, untangling curls with his fingers, whispering words of comfort softly into his ear.

They stayed entangled , listening to the sounds of the city, _their city_ , moving below them. Cars honk, sirens sound, people laugh, and life continues on.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments always welcome :)


End file.
